SAFE SPACE WARNING, OR SOMETING, YOU WUSSES:
But uh… this is the most personal rambling I’ve written in a long while. Plus, Religion “happens.” Proceed with caution? I don’t fucking know.
This is rambling is gonna be so damn liberating for me. I’m sorry.
For like… half of my life. Or so. I went around being like, “OMG DUDE, DO YOU KNOW WHAT I KNOW?! I GUESS NOT! CAUSE YOU’RE STUPID AND NOT ‘PROPHETIBLE’ LIKE ME~!” I mean. Kinda,. But. Like. Who could blame me? Right? For, basically all ofg my life, I’ve been told that I was “a promisde child from God.” I had that title bestowed upon me since birth.
There’s that. And like. My dad’s always been like, “Dude! You know what? Our family? We’re prohpets! did you know that? And guess what, bruh, I’m such a prophet that God told me I’ma win the PowerBall in like 1993. So. Of COURSE, I know, FOR SURE, that God told me to quit my job, here, in 1991. Cause. Everything’s gonna be fine. Cuze POWERBALL!~”
“Wait? We’re gonna lose the house cause I quit my job? Wait? I didn’t win the pwerBall here, in 1993?!”
“Guess what?! Still prophets! I don’t even cvare! We moved to Colorado and everything is JUST like God told me~!”
All of these things happened. Basically. In my life. Exact years and stuffs aren’t correct. But. It’s basically the same thing.
After all of that. I’m still pounded with like, “Dude, Ryan! Guess what? God told me you were gonna be born this one time! After my brother had a similar experience! So! I knew I was a prophet right then and there!”
Then like… Apparently my mother was taking medications that would kill a fetus or something? But I happened anyways? So.
“OMG~! PROPHECIES ARE REAL~!”
Then… again… all of the PowerBall/job quitting things happened. And uh…
From like 2002-2013 or so. I REALLY bought into the hype. You know? I was like, “Bruh. Ryan. You know shit. You know so much shit that no one can compare to the shit you know.” Cause. Legit. I thought that, you know, being born in such a “prophetable” family, WITH the extra bonuys skill of being a “promised child,” meant something. You know?
Like. I had the audacity to tell my eldest brother than he’d bow down to me. Metaphorically.
Because. I KNEW shit. I could tell the future. Back then. In like 2012. Or something. Shit. Back in 20120, I thought, for sure, Mitt Romney would be President. Cause like. Look at how shitty of a job Obama had done. BRUH. Look at how much of a fiasco this “Benghazi” situation is. I KNOW Obama’s gonna lose. In 20212.
I mean. Song. Things. “Prophecy.” I applied it to Obama back in the day. Merhaps, you dear left-leaning reader of mine can and have applied to to Trump years ago. I dunno.
Needless to say. I was, obviously, wrong about all of these things. And I can easily admit it. I was a dumb piece of shit that believed my own hype that never should have beenthere to begin with. Plus. Dude. I was in my 20’s. Everyone in their 20’s tjhinks that, eventualls, they’re going to rule the world and everyone that ever wronged them is gonna come begging for shit ala, “bow down,” and whatever, right?
So. I’ve lived. OK. Better term is: I’ve existed. For 10ish more years longer now. Post-20’s. And I’m in my thirties. (FFS. Jesus Christ. No wonder I’ve been on about how much I’m going to go back to 1890 at this point, right?) and like. Nopes. If anything, I’ve “bowed down” to my eledest brother a bunch of times. Metaphoriibly. So. Uh.
That’s another checkmark afainst “being a prophet bingo” or something? I dunno.
Dude. Over the years.. I’ve said and done so much shit that like…. I’ve barely an idea of reality at this point?
Over the years? I’ve spewed so God damn much shit out of my mouth that nothing matters. Logically, dude. But. I mean. At least I actually haven the inate ability to be able to admit this. You know?
I’m you’re humble drunkard from afar. I know thing.
Never, ever, take what I say as a fact.
I can say “I know the future” about one thing. Currently. And I mean….. it’s barely an inconvenience.
Donal Trump is GOING to win a second term. I KNOW this. not because of “prophecy.” It’s ust. Ya’ll, on tye left have fucked up beyond repair so much. That. Dude. Trump’s gonna walts right in. Like a Brady-led football team. It’s just. OBVIOUSLY going to happen.
And. Damn it.
Misinterperet the rules all you want… Brady’s gona lead TB to some sort of semblence of greatness. I mean. Not much. But a good decent oamount of greatness
I know this. Because I’m a promised child of God. So. Make you bets on a sure thing. I think? Something to do with me? I dunno.
Fuck this. I’m done.
RANDOM SIDENOTE: John “The Relevator” had a fever dream and wrote about the tyrant, Nero. Christians have interpreted this as “the book of Revelations” ever since. Apparently. That’s if “John ‘The Relevator'” ever existed in the first place. Of course.